Misadventures of a stay at home mom trying not to screw up her kids

Water Works

If you know me or you’ve spent a few minutes reading one of my blogs then you know one thing about me: I am a glass case of emotion. Before I go on, how many people actually answered that with “she loves wine”? That’s also a true statement but not necessarily the topic for today’s blog post at all.

I am a crier. Not in an I-just-watched-an-episode-of- This Is Us –sort of way, because that show gets everyone. Rather, I have the emotional fortitude of a wet paper bag in a windstorm. It is borderline ridiculous and I swear to you that I have zero control of it. I’m not full-on crying with big gulping sobs, but there are tears. All the time. Welling up dramatically in my eyes, blurring my vision with salty droplets of my own feelings. Because of all the things. Mostly happy, uplifting things. But there are sad tears, too, although less frequent thankfully.

It doesn’t take much to push me over the edge into teary-eyed mode. It’s really the the little, almost absurd things that are the most ridiculous about my status as a habitual crier.

I imagine this is what my face looks like most of the time.

Things that make me cry (not an exhaustive list as its added to daily):

Any remotely uplifting story on social media

Looking at my children’s baby pictures

A commercial set to some moving music. Example:

Amazon’s commercial where the baby is scared of the golden retriever. The dad buys a lion mane wig for the dog to mimic the baby’s favorite toy and the baby reaches out happily to touch the dog’s face. It’s sweet and wonderful and WAAAAAH. Side note, don’t you think you should return that baby if it doesn’t like one of the sweetest, most gentle dog breeds ever??

60 Minutes

Conversations with people when they reveal the slightest, intimate detail about their lives

Trying to make toasts

When people make pregnancy or wedding announcements

Note, I don’t even need to know the person necessarily. If it’s presented in the right way then there’s a good chance that I’m tearing up for the random friend of a friend’s co-worker that I met one time at a bar right out of college

Watching my children’s delight and wonder in certain things like Santa (God help me when we go to Disney. I’m going to be so dehydrated from all the crying)

Catching a sweet moment between my husband and kids

Last night’s The Real Housewives of New Jersey

When other people cry or get choked up

Wishing strangers Merry Christmas

Moana

Moana deserves its own sub-category as its responsible for 75% of my tears within the last three weeks. The kids are OBSESSED. Moana is life. Olivia wakes up asking for “WAH-NA” and AJR runs around singing all of the songs with an adorable little gusto that makes me want to put the kid into show-biz. The kids watch a lot of hot garbage – I’m talking about you, Top Wing. But Moana is my homegirl. Even on the fifth and now what I can only assume is the 100th viewing. The music, the drama, the strong female lead in a plot that isn’t driven by a quest to find love. But my God, I cry during the WHOLE damn movie for the most part. Disney knows how to cut me to the core. Moana is frustrated because she’s drawn to the ocean but can’t go there? Girl, your pain is real here are your tears. Grandma is giving Moana an inspirational pep-talk on her deathbed? TREMBLING. Oh, and then Grandma dies and her spirit animal pushes your boat past the reef as the music hits its crescendo? SOBBING INTO MY PILLOW SO THE KIDS DON’T SEE ME tears. Then there’s the last 20 minutes of the movie where the stakes are so high, but not higher than my rampant emotions. Moana leaves me drained and puffy-eyed after a viewing. Thank goodness we’re only watching this every single day so I have time to recover.

I know that most of you will say “Oh Lynn, this is what happens once you have kids! Your emotions will forever be out of whack!” While bearing children has certainly increased the intensity with which I feel, I have always been a quivering blob on the cusp of a tearful moment. It’s a pathetic, yet endearing quality of mine.

Case-in-point, the second time I met my husband, Joe, nearly 10 years ago my friend told him that I cried during an episode of The Office. You know, the comedy with Steve Carrell as a buffoon of a boss? The one that makes people laugh? Yep, I cried at one particular episode, which apparently makes me some sort of freak-show. During this unveiling of one of the core components of my very being, I saw the look of horror on Joe’s face as he physically began to recoil from me. Understandable as we all know just how much guys really love feelings. Especially the talking about them part. I am a complete weenie, but in my defense it was the episode where Pam has a drawing at an art show and either no one shows up or everyone says how terrible it is. She’s vulnerable because her engagement is off and Jim is running around the office with his current girlfriend. Then Michael Scott comes in and says it’s amazing and wants to buy it from Pam. Pam, moved by his gesture, tears up and gives Michael a big hug. (Also, I teared up and got goosebumps just typing this out).

Go back and watch this episode. If you’re not moved, then you may be dead inside.

Joe is my complete opposite in this regard so it’s a wonder that this story didn’t scare him off completely. I like to think that my charming personality (the non-crying parts, anyway) and ability to sit through nine innings of baseball multiple times over the course of a season won my him over and he was able to forgive the fact that I am a bawling baby. Where is he is stoic, I am a puddle. Where I am teary, he is looking at me going “How is this making you cry?” We could not be on more opposite ends of the emotional spectrum and perhaps this is why we work. For every crier needs a shoulder to cry on. Or at least look at them and say how ridiculous they’re being crying over the Folger’s Coffee commercial to cut the emotional tension with a good laugh.

I’ve tried in vain to keep these tears of mine in check, but to no avail. I’m just destined to be a crier and it’s something I’ve come to embrace. So, if you’ve got any recommendations for a solid waterproof mascara, send it my way because these flood gates are wide open.

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2 thoughts on “Water Works”

Omg I sympathize with this SO much! When Pishko and I took Kate to Disney World last March, I started bawling when we walked into the Magic Kingdom, right on Main Street where you can see Cinderella’s castle at the end of the street. Pishko happened to be taking a video at the time, and he pans over to me and goes “wait! Are you CRYING?!” It’s hilarious. I’m so glad someone else cries at The Wonder of Childhood!! We went to a thing this Christmas where Santa lands at the Enchanted Forest in a helicopter. I bawled during the whole landing. I feel slightly less crazy now!😂